Forbidden Love
by Demented.Hairflip
Summary: Falling in love with a Death Eater was not something Phoebe Katrene expected upon arrival at Hogwarts. Especially not after befriending the infamous trio and joining them in Gryffindor House. Now, she struggles with herself to find where her loyalty lies.
1. Shocks and Celebrations

"WHAT! Hogwarts! You must be joking!"

These were the last words Phoebe Katrene could civilly say to her parents that night in their penthouse in London. A home-schooled slip of thing that later sat in her room, her normally pale face red with fury, her usually playful blue eyes shining with tears, and her always groomed chestnut hair a mess of curls. Surrounded by the once friendly atmosphere of her room, she wept, until a soft knock at her door.

"Sweetie?" Her mother pushed open the glass door cautiously and entering the room.

Phoebe buried her head deeper into a particularly fluffy and voluminous pillow as her mom took a seat on her bed, stroking Phoebe's hair. Unfortunately, they didn't muffle her mother's next words, which pressed against her ear drums and made her heart sink into a pool of guilt.

"Phoebe, you know I don't want to send you there. But your father and I can't say no to Remus. He needs us, especially now that Dumbledore…" she trailed of, her eyes tearing. Dumbledore had been Mrs. Katrene's Headmaster, and a friend later on. Phoebe remembered how terrible the funeral had been, and how hard it was on her parents. She stayed silent while her mother recollected herself and continued. "I wish I could finish your education here but I can't have you somewhere that you will be in great danger. The Order of the Phoenix has ensured us that you will be safe, especially now that we have joined. Tonks is still stationed in Hogsmead. She agreed to keep an extra careful watch on you. I can't lose the most important person in my life."

Phoebe sat up, wiping the tears from her cheeks and nose with her hand. She looked at her mother.

"I'll go," she said throatily, "But only if you get me that backpack at Bocci's I've wanted for ages." She smiled feebly. Mrs. Katrene laughed and pulled her daughter into a hug.

"Where's Dad?" Phoebe asked.

Her mother laughed again, "Coincidentally, he's on his way to Bocci's."

Over the next couple of weeks, Phoebe prepared for Hogwarts the best she could. Lessons with her mother and father had resumed, despite the summer holidays, to be sure that she was up to scale for the seventh year curriculum at the school. They were pleased to see that their daughter was actually above average in her spell work for her age. Also in potions, a quality, her father would say with his chest puffed out proudly, that she had inherited from himself.

Her book list and Hogwarts Express ticket arrived in August, delivered by a handsome barn owl, .which allowed Phoebe to stroke his plumage while she read, and nipping her finger fondly before leaving.

"Who's owl was it?" asked her Mrs. Katrene, flicking her wand at a towel in the kitchen drawer, which energetically began to dry dishes.

"Hogwarts," replied Phoebe, pulling out the chair next to her to rest her feet on. Mrs. Katrene opened the cabinet above the stove and pulled out and old-fashioned bottle with an oak-colored liquid swirling inside. She flicked her wand at the dried dishes and two small glasses flew to the table.

"Thirsty? It's matured Mead from the Tree Broomsticks. We brought it home from our trip to Hogsmead last week," said Mrs. Katrene, pouring the liquid into the glasses and handing one to Phoebe. Phoebe excepted it thankfully and took a sip. Mrs. Katrene sighed and looked out the window at the shining building-tops of the city.

"We'll have to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get your things for school," she took a hearty drink from her cup. Then, as the telephone rang, she stood and walked through the door to the sitting room, leaving Phoebe to ponder about the trip to Diagon Alley.

"Wakee, Wakee sleepy head!"

The sound of the curtains being thrown back led to heat and a very bright light on Phoebe's sleep-worn face. She groaned and turned over, pulling the blankets over her head.

"Morning Glory!" Mrs. Katrene said cheerfully, "Breakfast is almost ready. Your father make French toast. Then he is off to work and we are off shopping!" She left the room and Phoebe grinned under her blanket. Shopping always put her mom in this mood.

Phoebe threw the covers off of her head, breathing in the summer air coming from her open window. She sat up and stretched, yawning widely and scratching her head. Then she stepped onto the carpet and groggily made her way to the closet.

Ten minutes later, a fully dressed and groomed Phoebe stood in the kitchen doorway, watching the antics of her parents.

"Hey, Sport!" exclaimed Mr. Katrene, standing at the stove cooking sausages in a large skillet, wearing a flowered apron over his muggle attire and sending the cooked sausages to the table with his wand.

Phoebe smiled at him and took her normal seat at the table, accepting a copy of the Daily Prophet from a tawny that had flown in the open window. She slipped a Knut into the pouch on it's leg and, taking a drink of Phoebe's orange juice, it flew away. Phoebe turned a threw the paper on the counter for her dad.

"Hope you guys are hungry!" Mr. Katrene said, rubbing his hands together and tucking in to his breakfast.

"Hello, Tom!" called Mrs. Katrene as they entered the pub, visitors turning in alarm. She raised her hand in the air and twiddled her fingers. Phoebe put her face in her hand and slinked in behind her. The toothless owner of the Leaky Cauldron walked forward to shake Mrs. Katrene's hand

"A pleasure, as always, Claudia," he said, "Would you like some tea and biscuits?" He began to make his way to the bar.

"Sorry, Tom. But we have to get Phoebe's school things," said Mrs. Katrene, stopping the landlord in his tracks. He turned inquisitively.

"School?"

"Oh, yes! I didn't tell you! Phoebe will be attending Hogwarts for the last year of her education. She'll be in Gryffindor, as Fletcher and I were." She beamed at Phoebe, who silently pleaded for her to stop being such a prat.

While Tom and Mrs. Katrene continued their conversation, Phoebe looked around the pub, taking in all of the visitors, sitting with copies of The Quibbler, The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. Some sat alone, eating soup or scones, and some sat in groups, deep in conversation over drinks. One particular visitor caught Phoebe's eye, and she seemed to have caught his, too. A pale boy with platinum blonde hair and blazing blue eyes was taking in Phoebe's appearance. She blushed and looked away when they made eye contact, but not before she took him in as well. He seemed very different from her. He wore a gray sweater with black pants, in spite of the heat, while she wore jeans and green tank top. His straight hair fell into his eyes with a certain elegance, her curls fell around her shoulders from the ponytail on the back of her head, and her bangs stayed stubbornly in her eyes. His shoes were high-quality and polished, her old Doc Martins were starting to wear out at the front.

"Claudia? Phoebe? Is that you?"

A plump woman with flaming red hair clambered over to hem, pulling Phoebe into a hug and wrenching her back into reality.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasely," said Phoebe, slightly muffled. Mrs. Weasely let go and held Phoebe at arms length.

"Why, Look at you! I haven't seen you since Ronald started school! You've grown so much!"

"Yeah, you know she actually looks like a girl," said Ron, stepping into the pub, followed by a bespectacled boy with messy black hair, and a girl with bushy brown hair.

"Glad I can say the same for you," said Phoebe cooly, putting her hands on her hips. Ron looked at her in silence, then a broad grin stretched across his face, and his arms opened to engulf her in a bear hug. They laughed as they broke apart.

While Mrs. Weasely and Katrene caught up, Ron pulled Phoebe over to the bar, the boy and girl following.  
"Feebs, this is Hermione Granger," said Ron, introducing the girl sitting next to him with the bushy brown hair. She held out her hand and Phoebe shook it, smiling. "And this is Harry Potter."

"Well, of course I know you," laughed Phoebe, taking Harry's hand and shaking it, too. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all laughed.

"Well, come along, Phoebe, dear," chimed Mrs. Katrene, "We're going to do our shopping with Mrs. Weasely today." Phoebe took one last glance at the boy, who was still watching her. He smiled, and she blushed, walking out the back with her mother and the others.

They approached the hidden entrance way to Diagon Alley, Mrs. Katrene taking out her wand and tapping the brick which revealed the alley. The bricks separated, and Phoebe and her mother walked through the entrance, followed by Mrs. Weasley and company, into the crowds of anxious shoppers.


	2. On Diagon Alley

They passed by excited witches holding bags, glum wizards reading instruction manuals for their items, and giggling children carrying ice creams. Many of the Ministry of Magic posters that had been posted over the shop windows in the previous year had been torn down, and the stands of the grubby wizards looking for all they could steal had been demolished, and the wizards arrested. There hadn't been a reported death since Dumbledore, and people were starting to believe that Lord Voldemort had disappeared, along with most of his followers. Diagon Alley was no longer a timid, feeble place, but a colorful place of joy, merriment and shopping.

"Mum, can Ron, Harry, Hermione and me do our shopping alone? We'll meet you back at the Leaky Cauldron at three o'clock," Phoebe gave her mother a puppy face, "Please?"

"If it's alright with Molly it's alright with me," said Mrs. Katrene, smiling at the childishness of her daughter.

"Please, Mum?" pleaded Ron.

"Well…. Alright, I suppose so," Mrs. Weasely said uncertainly, "Be back at the Leaky Cauldron at three o'clock. Not a minute later." She looked stern.

"Sure, Mum," Ron chirped, leading the other three down the alley.

They stopped their conversation about the new school year in front of a shop in which random bangs and pops could be heard from the inside. A golden sign over the door read 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes'.

"Wait…" said Phoebe, a look of excitement painting her face, "Is this-"

"Fred and George's shop? Yeah. They started it up last year," said Ron, pushing the door open with some difficulty. The store was packed with witches and wizards pouring over Fred and George's merchandise. Everything crammed onto the shelves Phoebe could remember the twins showing her plans of in the past. She chuckled to herself as she remembered last summer when Fred and George wrote her to tell her about the Skiving Snackboxes. And the massive boils he had gotten on his rear.

"Welcome, kiddies!" called Fred, coming out from behind a curtain by the register and adjusting his striped tie. He stopped short when he saw Phoebe. "Oi, George!" he called over his shoulder, an excited and surprised grin appearing on his thin lips. He picked his way through the bustling crowd, his velveteen robes catching on a bin of fake wands. With the squeak of mouse, and the squawk of a chicken, he made it over to her, giving her a bear hug like Ron's and picking her up off the floor.

"Hey, Feebs!" called George, appearing next to her and Fred with an identical grin to that of his twins. The next thing Phoebe knew, she was being passed between the two, asking how they've all been and saying how much they've missed each other.

"You look like a girl!" exclaimed Fred, putting her down and holding her at arms length like Mrs. Weasley had done.

"Yeah," said George, "What in the bloody Hell happened?"

"A little thing called puberty," said Phoebe in a matter-of-fact tone, rolling her eyes, "When are you two planning on experiencing it?"

"Now, Phoebe! Exactly how much 'experiencing' of your own have you been doing lately?" Fred countered, smiling smugly as though he thought he was the master of all insults. Phoebe punched him hard in the arm. They all laughed, Fred saying, while rubbing his arm, "I see you haven't lost that spirit of yours."

After another minute or so of chatting, Fred and George had to say good-bye, for their attention had been called by a particularly polished man calling for the proprieters of the shop. Phoebe, Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed their way back through the throngs of shoppers and out onto the busy main street.

Over the next hour and a half, the four of them walked along the alley, poking into shops for assorted school supplies or, in Phoebe and Hermione's case, to examine a window display of clothing further. They got all of their potions ingredients at the apothecary, their school books at Flourish and Blotts, and an assortment of new quills, inks, and parchment from a new and quaint little shop across the way from The Magical Menagerie.

"Let's go in here," said Harry, opening the door to The Magical Menagerie. An explosion of screeching owls met their ears, "Hedwig and Pig could do with some more food and treats.

"And Crookshanks needs more food too," added Hermione, following after Harry and Ron. "And maybe some catnip."

"Are you mad?" exclaimed Ron, looking at Hermione accusatorily, "That cat is psychotic as it is. We don't need it to turn into a complete idiot while under the influence, now, do we?"

Hermione scowled, but seemed to think it better not to come back at him. Phoebe smirked and looked away so Hermione wouldn't see her. She looked around the walls. They were lined with cages of toads, cats, snakes, snails, lizards, owls, and other strange creatures. She wandered over to the area with the most cats, while the others went over to the food stocks. There was such a variety! Cats with fluffed up orange fur, cats black as night, cats with mismatching eyes. Every one of them were so adorable in Phoebe's eyes.

A soft mew came from the smallest of the cages at the far end of the wall. Phoebe wandered over to investigate. In the cage at eye level, where the little mews were coming from, the tiniest kitten that she had ever seen sat right in the middle. It stood on it's four slender legs and stuck its nose out of one of the holes in the cage, continuing to mew softly. Phoebe felt her heart melt. She opened the cage door and took her out, holding her against her chest and stroking her blue fur. It rubbed its head against Phoebe's chin and purred. Then it looked around and stared her in the eye. It had big, sparkling blue eyes, very much like her own.

Phoebe grabbed the cage and carried it and the kitten to the checkout counter and waited behind an old wizard looking for a cure for warts he had contracted from his spotted toad. The anxious looking witch was trying to explain to him that he needed to go to the apothecary or St. Mungo's for treatment.

"But I bought Albert here!" the old wizard whined, slamming a hand knotted with veins on the counter, "Surely there is something you can give me!"

"I'm sorry!" said the witch, in a tone that clearly expressed that she wasn't really sorry at all. "I have nothing for you! Now, please, step out of the way sure. As you see, I have other customers." She indicated Phoebe, holding the kitten. The old wizard huffed and stormed out of the store.

"How can I help you?" said the witch in an apologetic and exasperated tone.

"I'd like to buy this cat, please," said Phoebe in her most polite tone, trying to make the witch feel a bit better.

"Wonderful. She's only six weeks old, you know," said the witch, now smiling. She reached under the counter and pulled out a bag of food and catnip.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm," responded the witch, putting the two bags into the cage. "Now," she placed her hands on the counter, "Feed her twice a day. Wait for another two or three weeks to give her any catnip. Or you can put a very small amount in her food to get her used to its affects. Make sure that you have a consistent water source for her, and a nice warm place to sleep." The witch grabbed a form from a stack on the shelf behind her. "Fill this out quick."

"What is it?"

"A form that will state that the animal is legally yours. You can get her a color and take her to the vet and such with this."

"The vet?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow.

"The muggle Prime Minister asks that we do it," the witch whispered. Phoebe filled out the form, signed it with a flourish, and handed it to the witch, who stamped it and put it on the shelf. "By the way, what will the little kitty's name be?"

Phoebe looked into the cat's eyes again.

"Bernadine," she said, smiling.

"A beautiful name," said the witch, pushing the cage towards her.

At five minutes to three, Phoebe, Ron, Harry and Hermione entered the Leaky Cauldron, school stuff in hand and smiling. Mrs. Weasley waved from the bar. They made their way over to her.

"You made it on time!" she said joviently, clapping once. "We're going to have lunch here. You four can sit wherever you want. Order right here and Tom will bring it over."

"Phoebe," said Mrs. Katrene, raising an eyebrow and sipping her drink, "Where did you get that cat?"

"The store," said Phoebe offhandedly.

They placed their orders and made their way into a smaller, lounge area in the back. Phoebe sat indian-style in a cushioned, red armchair, with Bernadine in her lap. They talked about this and that, just mindless drawing room chatter, until Tom came in, food platters in hand.

"Thank you, Tom," said Phoebe, smiling as he laid her steak and vegetables on the table in front of her. He nodded at her, then finished handing out the dinners.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Ketchup, please, Tom," asked Phoebe, leaning forward to cut her steak, being careful not to crush the sleeping cat in her lap.

After eating their dinners and laughing at the horrendous coughing fit Ron had when he inhaled a piece of his Shepard's pie, Tom came back cake and ice cream. After expressing their gratitude, and taking great helpings of strawberry ice cream and chocolate cake, they set into conversation. Bernadine still slept on Phoebe's legs.

"Who do you think they'll get to do potions now that Snape blew his cover?" asked Ron with his mouth full.

"Snape?" inquired Phoebe.

"The most foul teacher on the planet," said Harry, scowling. Hermione made an indignant sound. "Be fair," she said, holding a spoon of ice cream in front of her mouth, "We learned loads from him. And you still have that book of his."

"Hermione!" exclaimed Ron, spewing chocolate everywhere, "He killed Dumbledore! Don't defend him!"

Just as Ron was wiping his face with a napkin, Bernadine jumped up off of Phoebe's lap and sprinted out of the lounge door. "Bernadine!" yelled Phoebe after her. She walked quickly after her.

"Want help?" asked Harry.

"No, I'll get her," Phoebe responded, continuing out of the lounge. She walked out into a small, deserted area of benches and tables. "Bernadine!" she whisper, bending to look under tables and chairs.

A soft mewing came from the stairwell, leading into a lower level of the building Phoebe had never noticed before. She walked over and edged into the door, opened only a small way. She crept down the stairs. The glow of firelight was strong, and she could here voices. On the last step of the stairs, she poked her head around the corner. The boy from earlier that she had noticed was sitting on a leather sofa with another one of his friends. There were about seven of them altogether, all sitting by the fire place, drinking and laughing and talking. On the blonde boys lap lay Bernadine, eyes closed and purring while he petted her blue fur. Phoebe walked out from her hiding spot. There talking ceased at the sight of her.

"Er... sorry," she said, smiling embarrassedly, "But have you seen a cat? She ran out of the lounge while I was eating."

The blonde boy stood, smiling. "Is this it?" he asked, holding up Bernadine.

"That's her," Phoebe smiled as the boy walked closer to her. He handed her Bernadine.

"Beautiful cat," he said, scratching it behind the ear. Bernadine purred loudly and licked his hand.

"Thank you," said Phoebe, also scratching her, "Well, we have to be off. We're leaving in a bit." She looked into his blue eyes, and felt a very odd sensation around her navel. He smiled a heartstopping, breath taking smile.

"What's your name?" he asked. As he did so, the door at the top of the stairs opened wider. "Phoebe?" someone called down the stair well.

"Coming," she called up, turning back to the boy. "See you," she said, smiling. As she turned around, she got this odd idea in her head. She moved her hips a bit more as she walked back to the stairwell, and half- jogged up the stairs. The boy followed her and craned his neck up the stairs to look. A women, who had to be her mother, for she looked much like the girl, said, "What were you doing down there?"

The girl responded, "Bernadine ran down there." The mother said uncertainly, "Well, keep her in the cage, dear." Then she closed the door.


	3. Welcome to Hogwarts

"Have a good rest of the holiday, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, pulling Phoebe into a warm hug. She then embraced Mrs. Katrene. Phoebe ducked down into the back seat of the taxi cab her mother had called. Mrs. Katrene made herself comfortable up by the driver.

"We'll see you at King's Cross, Feebs," called Ron as he, Harry and Hermione waved to her from the Leaky Cauldron doorstep. Phoebe smiled and waved at them, then yanked the door shut. She turned and waved to them out of the back window, until the cab turned a corner and they were no longer in sight.

When Phoebe and her mother arrived home, Phoebe jumped out of the car and took the lift up to their top floor flat before her mother could even pay the driver. She threw open the door and ran through the living room, then up the winding stairs to her bedroom. Once inside she threw her school stuff onto the floor and let Bernadine out of her cage. She purred and rubbed her head on Phoebe's chest, then jumped off the bed and went off to explore. Phoebe lied down on her bed, thinking about her day and smiling to herself, eventually drifting off to a doze filled with dreams of cats and blonde boys.

On September the first at 10:30 in the morning, Phoebe sat in the back of a cab with her mother, her stomach full of butterflies, and a grumpy look on her face. She had not had a very good morning at all. She had woken up late, her shower ran cold, she got soap in her eye, and Bernadine gave her three long gashes on her arm when she tried to put the cat in the cage. Now, everything of hers was in the trunk, and Bernadine's cage was in between Phoebe and Mrs. Katrene.

At quarter till eleven, the cab pulled up in front of King's Cross train station. The driver opened the door for Phoebe, called for a trolley and pulled her belongings out of the back. When everything was all set and ready to be rolled to Platform nine and three quarters, Mrs. Katrene paid the driver and followed after Phoebe, rolling the trolley. The station was packed, and it was difficult for her to navigate her way around. After rolling over several disgruntled muggles' toes, and almost losing Bernadine's cage off of the top of the trolley twice, Phoebe rolled up in front of the entrance to Platform nine and three quarters. She stood there waiting, leaning on the trolling handle for her mother to catch up through the crowd. In just under a minute Mrs. Katrene had made her way there, red faced and looking agitated.

"Well, in we go," she gave Phoebe a little nudge towards the entrance. Phoebe looked around carefully, then walked right through the brick wall separating the muggle train station from the Hogwarts Express. The screeching sound of the steam issuing from the train met Phoebe's ear the instant she appeared on the platform. Excited students ran every which way, greeting friends and gossiping about the summer and discussing their new schedules. Mrs. Katrene appeared next to Phoebe, and nudged her arm again to move down the platform.

"Mother!" exclaimed Phoebe, pulling her arm away and making a small 'humph' sound.

"Hiya, Feebs!"

Bill Weasley came over to her and pulled off their old, legendary handshake: the one Phoebe had begged him to teach her when she first saw him do it with a friend. They ended with hip-check, and hugged laughing. Then he greeted Mrs. Katrene politely.

"The rest of the family is right down here, said Bill, indicating some twelve yards down the platform, "We've been watching for you like mad." Phoebe pushed her trolley up behind him, wondering where he had gotten the gruesome scars on his face and arms, then shrugging it off and deciding it had been from his job. When they got to the rest of the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione, Phoebe received many hugs again, much like the reunion at Diagon Alley.

"We have to get on quick if we want a compartment to ourselves," Harry observed. Phoebe looked around at the students all boarding, the butterflies in her stomach flapping around incessantly. After good-byes, and hugs all around, the four of them and Ginny boarded the train, dragging their heavy school trunks behind them. Phoebe couldn't help but feel very out of place. Everyone stared at her when she walked by, then turned to mutter to their friends, all probably wondering where she had come from. Phoebe, Harry, Ron, and Hermione trudged their way all the way to the back of the train, finding that compartment to be the only one empty.. They went inside and put their trunks into the luggage rack.

"Well, we must be off," said Hermione, turning on her heel and heading towards the compartment door.

"Where are you two headed for?" asked Phoebe, pulling Bernadine out of her cage and scratching her behind her large ears,

"Prefect duty," said Ron, "And they are selecting Head Boy and Girl." He had a longing expression on his face. Phoebe giggled.

"Good luck you two," she said, scratching Bernadine. She stood and gave Ron a hug. Hermione gave her an inquisitive look briefly, then left with Ron.

"Hermione was looking daggers at you," Harry said, laughing. Phoebe looked at him confused, then it dawned on her what Harry meant.

"Who, me? With RON?" Phoebe laughed uproariously, "No no no no no no NO! He's a childhood friend! Like a brother! That would be so weird!" Harry joined in her laughing.

For the next couple of hours, Phoebe and Harry chatted about this and that, watched Bernadine and Crookshanks play together, and discussed the upcoming year while they waited for Hermione and Ron to come back from prefect duty. About twenty minutes after they began a conversation about the Gryffindor/Slytherin House rivalries, Ron stormed through the door, a look of the utmost fury on his face.

"Do you know who's gotten Head Boy!" he fumed, throwing a waded up napkin onto the floor and kicking it at Phoebe's feet. Bernadine pounced on it, causing Phoebe to yank her legs up with a gasp.

"No idea," said Harry, "Who?"

Hermione walked in then, a sheepish look on her face, like she didn't want them to see her. Phoebe asked her with her eyes what was up. But she made slashing movements with her hands as if to say "Shut up before you piss Ron off more!"

"That scum of a human being Malfoy!" yelled Ron, throwing himself down next to Phoebe and putting his face in his hands and stewing silently. Phoebe sat next to him, completely confused. She felt even more out of place.

"WHAT?" exclaimed Harry, following suite of Ron, "You CAN'T be serious! We're all dead if that git has gotten Head Boy! Who the Hell appointed him?"

"Slughorn," Hermione said in almost a whisper.

Harry looked around at her, just noticing that she was in the compartment. Phoebe looked between them, still confused and wondering why Hermione was being so quite and trying to be stealth.

"When did he get the authority to do that?" asked Harry, sharing the confused look on his face that Phoebe donned.

"McGonnagall gave it to him at the end of last term," Hermione continued, still half whispering, "Flitwick didn't want to be Deputy, and Slughorn practically threw himself at her. She really couldn't say no."

Harry and Ron stewed in complete silence, muttering things like, "That idiot" and "What a prat" under there breath. Phoebe couldn't take her confused air anymore. She picked up Bernadine off of the floor and put her in her lap. She lied down immediately and began to purr. Phoebe took a hair elastic off her wrist and threw her hair into a ponytail.

"Who exactly are these people you guys are all steaming about?" she asked, pulling a stray curl behind her ear and blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

"Gits," said Ron simply. But that wasn't good enough for Phoebe.

"Ronald," she said, getting a stern look on her face not unlike the one Mrs. Weasley and her own mother always gave. Ron looked up at her face and smiled.

"Alright," he said, sitting up. Hermione looked anxiously between them. "Slughorn teaches potions. He's a bit off." He propped up a pillow and lied back on it, "McGonnagall is the new Headmistress, and is also the transfiguration teacher. And Malfoy," he looked at Harry, then back, "Is a rotten slime ball. He's a You-Know-Who supporter and thinks he's in You-Know-Who's inner circle. He's also an idiot," Ron added as an after thought. Phoebe nodded to show she understood.

The lunch trolley made it's way to their compartment in the back at around two o'clock. Phoebe was starving, so she bought a stack of Cauldron Cakes, a Pumpkin Pasty and a handful of Chocolate Frogs. She sat back in her seat and began to tuck in.

"Feeding an army?" asked Ron sarcastically.

The train kept on heading north, and eventually the towers of Hogwarts came into sight over the trees, the castle set between the mountains. The full moon cast a glow along the right side, and Phoebe watched it creep closer in awe while she changed into her school robes. The train shook and she stumbled, quickly regaining her balance. She heard Ron say "Ouch! Damn!" loudly behind her.

The train chugged to a stop at Hogsmeade station, where many carriages stood, waiting for the students. Phoebe wondered where the horses were as she pulled her trunk off of the luggage rack and onto the floor. Then she hoarded Bernadine into her cage. She followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione through the train halls, saying "Sorry!" and "Excuse me!" as she bumped into others. After three times of almost losing the others, she reached the exit. Harry turned when he jumped down to help pull Phoebe's trunk down with him. Phoebe jumped down afterwards and looked up at the stars, marveling at how brightly they shone out side of the city.

"Keep up, Phoebe!" called Hermione to her, and she looked around at her and dragged her trunk as fast as she could behind her. She climbed into a carriage after Ron, Hermione and Harry following suit.

"Nervous?" asked Harry, grinning at Phoebe. Phoebe looked at him thoughtfully.

"Only a lot," she said, laughing.

"Don't worry about it," said Ron, putting his arm around Phoebe and pulling her in close to him, "We'll watch out for you." He playfully punched her arm and she smiled. Hermione continued to throw looks of mistrust at them both.

The coach rocked and bumped around all the way up to the Hogwarts gates. When they stopped, Phoebe adjusted her robes and leapt out of the carriage. She looked around at the students milling around her, headed for the castle like bees swarming swarming to their hives. Her jaw fell slightly. A hand on her shoulder pulled her around. It was Tonks.

"Hey Tonks!" Phoebe cried, hugging her, "Your hair looks great!"

"Thanks," replied Tonks, twirling a long lock of blonde hair around her finger. "Wotcher," she said cheerily to the rest. They all gave hugs and greetings and chatted for a moment or two.

"How's Lupin?" Harry asked interestedly.

"He's great!" exclaimed Tonks, "He moved in with me last weekend."

The girls giggled and the boys rolled their eyes. The last students were now walking up the stairs to the oak front doors.

"You had better be going," said Tonks, winking at Phoebe, "I'll be keeping an eyes on you all. See you!"

"See you!" they all called. Then they hoisted their trunks onto the stairs and dragged them awkwardly to the entrance hall with the other luggage. Then they hurried into the Great Hall where, with Phoebe's great displeasure, all the students were already seated, awaiting the feast to begin. A warm flush crept up Phoebe's face as she tried to avoid stares from curious people, wondering where she had come from.

"We sit here," said Harry, pointing to two tables with scarlet and gold banners hung over them, seeming to understand what Phoebe was feeling. He smiled at her very red face. "These are the Gryffindor tables. We take all of our meals here. We normally sit at this one, " he indicated the table to Phoebe's right, the one closer to the tables with green and silver banners hung over them. Harry took her elbow and led her down the table, opposite of where Ron and Hermione had already taken a seat. Phoebe sat and made herself comfortable, scootching over a bit to make more room for Harry.

"Alright," he said, looking at her and smiling, "Introductions are in order. This here is Neville," he indicated a boy to Hermione's left, "This is Seamus," the boy next to Neville gave a smile and twiddled his fingers dumbly, "And this is Dean," the boy on Harry's other side leaned forward and waved, then elbowed Harry aside.

"My pleasure, entirely," he said, taking Phoebe's hand and moving to kiss it.

"Please, spare us," said Ron.

"Down there," said Hermione, leaning into the table, knocking Dean's arm away and pointing to Phoebe's left, "That's Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. They share a dormitory with us."

"They're a bit… whacked, to be honest," said Ron seriously, and Phoebe and Harry laughed. Hermione looked indignant and opened her mouth to say something to Ron, but was cut off by a loud call from the table behind them.

"Potter!" a voice called for Harry. Phoebe didn't concern herself. They were calling for Harry, not her. Ron and Hermione, however, looked over interestedly, then gained matching scowls on there faces. Harry spun around as though he knew what was coming,

"Good evening, Potter," said a different voice. A voice familiar to Phoebe. "Well, well. There seems to be an addition to the Gryffindor table, boys," the voice continued. "Who's your new friend?"

Phoebe turned to look at who was talking, and the blush returned. It was the blonde boy that she had met in the Leaky Cauldron. The one that Bernadine had run to. She sat and stared at him in shock and awe. His expression looking back mirrored her own.

"Oh," he said. He looked windswept, like he had forgotten anyone else was in the hall. He just continued to stare, and Phoebe's blush deepened. Then a slow smile danced on his face. The boys sitting around him began to punch his arms and laugh at him, making foolish comments. Harry grabbed Phoebe's arm and wheeled her back around to the table. She could feel the boys eyes on the back of her head.

"Settle down," said a loud voice at the front of the hall. Phoebe looked around, then whispered, "Who is that?" to Harry.

"Professor McGonnagall," he whispered back, "She took over as Headmistress for Dumbledore."

"Welcome back to Hogwarts," Professor McGonnagall said, when silence had filled the room, "We are happy to be having another school year here, as it looked as though the school would be closing. This past year was a difficult one," she paused and looked around at the students, "Safety has been re-ensured at Hogwarts. It appears that all of the spells Professor Dumbledore had bestowed upon the castle have remained, and are stronger than ever. Now, this years upcoming events." She turned to look at the teachers behind her, who all smiled encouragingly. "This year we will be holding a number of events. This year, there shall be a ball held for the four major holidays: Halloween, Christmas, Valentine's Day, and before your spring holidays. There will also be an end of the year ball, and another at the end of this month in memory of Albus Dumbledore. Dress robes are to be worn to all of the balls, except for Halloween, where costumes are a must, and the end of the year ball, which will be casual attire." She paused for a few moments to allow the students to cheer and exclaim how awesome this all was. "On the other hand," she called over the cheering. The room restored quiet.

On the other hand, lessons will become more advanced for all years. You all must be more prepared for the wizarding world, now that there is more danger for us all. I trust you'll all do your best. Not that you haven't been doing a wonderful since you have all arrived at this school." She smiled adoringly at all of her students, who clapped and cheered again. McGonnagall wiped a tear away, then said, "Let us welcome the first years!"

The oak doors to the hall opened, and in came a line of about thirty five or so timid looking kids, all either looking about nervously or looking down at their shoes. They stood at the front of the hall, in front of the teachers table. A three-legged stool was brought to the front by a short bearded wizard, then a torn and shabby looking hat was placed on it.

"This part is great," Harry whispered, turning his head to Phoebe, "That's the Sorting Hat. He always sings a song before sorting the first years into their houses."

Phoebe nodded, waiting expectantly like the other students in the hall. A few long moments went by, silence heavy in the hall. Then a rip in the hat opened like a mouth.

"Good Evening," It spoke, in a very serious tone. "Welcome to Hogwarts first years. And welcome back to everyone else. I come bearing a warning for you all." It paused, and the students around the hall sat in unease. "The year will go smoothly, but lessons will be fierce. All will face trials not faced before. An unlikely alliance will form. An unlikely love that will change all tidings. The army fighting the Dark Side will strengthen as members of this school join the resistance. The outcome will rest upon their shoulders. Hear my words."

Phoebe felt stunned for a moment, then a chill ran through her body. The sensation of one standing up too quickly overcame her, then she was dizzy. She saw a couple kissing. A figure producing a patronus. She heard incantations being shouted by familiar voices. She saw the couple in bed. She heard wedding vows, then there was a burning altar, and a blonde man kneeled before a dark shadow. Then a pair of scarlet eyes.

"Phoebe," someone shook her and she came to reality. "Phoebe! Are you alright?" It was Harry. Ron and Hermione looked concerned.

"I'm- sorry," Phoebe breathed, shaking the images from her head, "Now the sorting, right?"

"It's all done," said Hermione, looking concerned.

"You were right here," said Ron, looking at her like she had three heads, "But you were clenching the table. And your eyes turned completely black. And your face got veiny."

"Can we just eat," asked Phoebe, digging into some mincemeat pie.


	4. Unexpected Conversation

By the end of the feast, Phoebe had grown tired of the timid looks she was receiving from the others. To say that she was less than ecstatic when attention was drawn back to the front of the hall when Professor McGonnagall stood again would be a severe understatement. She spun around to look at her so quickly her hair fanned out behind her, a dangerous thing when you have hair of that length.

"A wonderful feast, as always," McGonnagall beamed.

"Never seen her this chipper," Ron grumbled, taking another bite of his treacle tart.

"Now it is time for bed. First years, follow your house prefects, or ask the Head Boy or Girl for directions if you get lost in the cue. Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger will be at the doors of the hall. And I would like to see the Captains of the house quidditch teams in the room off the hall for the seasons new rules. Off you go!" she dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

"You're Head Girl!" Harry exclaimed, turning to Hermione incredulously.

"It's no big deal," she muttered, standing and walking over to the oaken doors to avoid the look Ron had given.

"So, I guess I'm on my own," said Phoebe, "I need to speak to McGonnagall quickly anyways. I should be able to catch up to follow the first years."

"I'm sorry I can't show you the way," said Harry, frowning and starting towards McGonnagall with her, "You shouldn't have to go alone."

"Oh it's no big deal. McGonnagall is just going to give me the password to her office so I can go up and get something. But thanks anyways."

"Just be careful. Slytherins walk about the corridors at night looking for trouble."

"Please, Harry. You act as though I've never cast as much as a Summoning charm," she paused as Harry laughed, "I'll have you know," she wagged her finger at him," that I have been able to produce a patronus for years. And I know every legal defensive spell there is."

"Well aren't we the cocky one."

They laughed uproariously as they reached Professor McGonnagall, who gave them a smile and raised her eyebrow.

"I see you've had no trouble making friends, Miss Katrene," she said with a glint in her eyes.

"No, Professor."

"Good. Very good. Well then, Potter," she pointed towards a door to her left, "I believe you need to be in there."

"Right. See you, Feebs," Harry patted her once on the arm and went through the door.

"Now, Miss Katrene," McGonnagall started, lowering her voice, "The amulet is on a table behind my desk. It is in a velveteen case. You need to be careful with it. It holds more power than you can imagine. More than a wand or a wizard can hold. Be very careful."

"Thank you, Professor."

"And Remember," McGonnagall looked stern, "I am only allowing you to carry this in my school because your mother holds you in the utmost respect. She tells me that your magical skills and abilities are advanced. Very advanced for your age. She tells me that you are very responsible, and will only use it for the protection and helping aspects. You may never use it to enhance your magical ability or any other uses. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Miss Katrene?"

"Crystal, Professor," said Phoebe.

"The password is 'plum pudding'. Second floor behind a stone gargoyle. Be careful alone, Phoebe. Keep your wand out. It's hard to trust in these times."

Phoebe walked along another seemingly endless corridor on the second floor, while she held her wand out in front of her. She kept hearing Professor McGonnagall voice in her head, "It's hard to trust in these times." Thankfully, in the darkness, and without her glasses on, she bumped right into the stone gargoyle.

"Lumos," Phoebe muttered, lighting her wand and groping in her robes for her black framed glasses. She put them on and squinted through the rectangular lenses. "'Plum Pudding'." The gargoyle leapt aside and Phoebe jumped back, startled. Holding her wand out in front of her again, she crept forward, the light casting long shadows. Suddenly, the floor beneath her moved, spinning up. She screamed, then looked down. She calmed as she realized it was a sort of escalator.

When the escalator stopped, Phoebe turned about, her hair fanning out again behind her, to face the door. She walked cautiously towards it, afraid that the floor might move again. Phoebe took hold of the golden door knockers and pushed the door open a bit, a loud squeal emitting from the hinges. Then, cautiously, she entered the office.

The room was dark, but not as dark as the hall. Phoebe muttered, "Lumos maxima," under breath, and the light at the end of her wand grew brighter to illuminate most of the room. She looked around the office, taking in the fine furniture, the book shelves that lined the walls, the trinkets on display, and the hundreds of portraits of wizards dozing in their frames.

"Now," said Phoebe allowed, "Where is the amulet?" As the last word came out of her mouth, a soft, reddish glow emitted from a table behind McGonnagall's desk. "Oh yes," said Phoebe offhandedly, approaching it cautiously. The glow was seeping through the cracks of the velveteen case the amulet was being held in. She took the case in her hands, and slowly opened the top. The brightness of the stone was so great that Phoebe had to turn her head away at first, then squinted her eyes to observe it. It was set in white gold, and the mold was very old-fashioned, Phoebe ball-parked it at fifteenth century art. She touched the surface of the stone with the tip of her middle finger. An electric shock went through her body. Bolts of red lightning ran up her arms and she gasped, removing her fingertip and nearly dropping the amulet.

"Phoebe Katrene," said a soft voice from above her. Phoebe jumped back in surprise and jerked her head upward.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she exclaimed, staring at the portrait of the late headmaster and rubbing the crick in her neck. He looked down upon her with a broad smile on his face. "How… how are you?" she asked awkwardly.

"I'm wonderful! As far as the deceased go," He chuckled at his joke. Phoebe sort of smiled, then looked down at her feet and fidgeted with a curly lock. Dumbledore's laughter stopped abruptly. Phoebe could feel his eyes on her. She looked up at his twinkling eyes.

"And yourself?" he inquired with a nod of his head.

"I've been… alright," Phoebe answered. She couldn't help but think how absurd it was to be having drawing room conversation with a man who had been dead for months. She wondered what he was going to say next. The tension was eating straight through her.

"Excellent. No doubt you are excited to begin lessons tomorrow?"

"Sure," Phoebe said nervously, "Divination will be fun."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore looked at her approvingly, "I never did set much store for the art of divination, but I new a handful of true Seers, one of which being your grandmother." He adjusted his robes and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yes, Bernadine was a wonderful student. I had her in my class when she was at this school. Top grades in every field. You named your cat after her?" Phoebe nodded. "A beautiful cat-"

"Um, Professor," Phoebe interrupted, stepping forward again, "Professor, I need to tell you about something."

"I know you do," said Dumbledore, smiling still, "You wish to ask me about the premonition you had earlier, correct?"

Phoebe nodded. "That's never happened to me before. My mom said it might one day, because of Gramma, but I never expected it to. Not now, anyways."

"Hmmm," Dumbledore rubbed his chin, thinking. "Your mother told me once that you had dreams often. Ones that predicted the future?" Phoebe nodded. "Have you ever dreamt about the dark side? About Lord Voldemort? Anything at all?"

Phoebe thought as hard as she could about all of her dreams. She remembered shadows of tale figures and gaunt faces and scarlet eyes. But she could only remember one vivid dream. One she had had the night before.

"I did once," she said, looking at the amulet in her hands, trying to remember everything. "There was a dock. And the ocean. And there was a cave. I was there. So were Ron and Harry and Hermione. And," she paused, not sure if she should say anything else.

"And Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes," Phoebe said, sort of breathlessly.

"Well, Phoebe. It seems to me that this dream is not to be taken lightly. I want you to meditate on this," Dumbledore paused to take his glasses off and wipe them with his robes, "And concerning Mr. Malfoy, I'm not sure what his presence there will mean. Whether good, or bad." He placed the glasses back onto his crooked nose.

"Thank you, sir," Phoebe said with a smile.

"There are big things ahead for you, my dear."

Phoebe stood on the stone escalator after leaving Professor McGonnagall's office. Her discussion with the late Albus Dumbledore had left her thinking. What things was he referring to when he said the big things were ahead for her? What in the world is the amulet supposed to do? And what does her dreams of the past have to do with anything? Including the ones involving Voldemort?

She reached the end of the stairs and walked through the entrance to the hall, the stone gargoyle leaping aside for her again. Just as it leapt back, Phoebe heard voices and laughter coming from around the corner of the far left of the hall. She stopped, hardly daring to breathe. She remembered what McGonnagall had said about the corridors being a dangerous place. She slipped to amulet around her neck, tucked it into her robes, and pulled her wand out as she walked down the corridor, away from the voices. She looked over her shoulder, and the people had come around the corner already. "Vindigo," she whispered, pointing her wand tip to the amulet under her shirt.

"Hey!" someone yelled from the throng, "Hey! You!" Phoebe stood completely still, then, her curiosity got the better of her, and she turned around slowly to face them. It was Malfoy. His expression lightened at the sight of her.

"Guys," he turned to talk to his friends, "Why don't you head down to the common room without me. I'll be along in a bit." They all snickered and smiled at him, then turned to go the other way. One girl with the group stopped and said, in a simpering, lovey tone, "Draco, when will you be coming along-?"

"I'll be there when I get there," he said to her off-handedly, waving her off as he turned back to Phoebe. The girl shot a look of venom over at her, then turned reluctantly to catch up with the others. Malfoy started over towards Phoebe.

Phoebe turned away and began to walk very quickly to the end of the corridor.

"Hey! Wait," Malfoy said, laughing as he jogged to keep up with her, "Where are you headed off to in such a hurry?" Phoebe didn't answer, she just continued her quick pace. Malfoy reached out and gently took her wrist, "Where are you going? Are you ignoring me on purpose?" Phoebe stopped and looked at him. A little bit of his hair was falling directly over his eye, which was sparkling like the other one.

"I can't talk to you," she said, turning away from him. He wouldn't let her go.

"Why?" he asked, smirking.

"I just can't," Phoebe replied, pulling her arm free of his grasp and continuing along her way.

"Because of your friends?" Malfoy called after her. She stopped and turned around to face him.

"No," she said defiantly.

Malfoy walked towards her again, and stood about two inches away from her.

"Then why," he asked again, in a near whisper. Phoebe said nothing. She let her thoughts hang on the note of his voice, the color of his eyes, and the smile dancing upon his thin lips. "Let me take you where you're headed. I doubt you know the way." Phoebe turned away, but Malfoy followed.They turned around another corner, and Phoebe sighed as they came upon the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the Head's office. "I went in a circle," she groaned.

"Well, why don't you tell me where you are going, and I could lead the way," Malfoy slipped in slyly, with a goofy smile. Phoebe looked at him, trying to appear emotionless. She was battling her loyalty for her friends, who obviously hated this guy, with her own feelings for him. A tense moment went by, then she gave in to her feelings. And, in all fairness, she thought to herself, how else was she going to find the dormitory?

"All right," she sighed, turning away then looking back, "I have no idea where my dormitory is. I don't even know where to begin to look. McGonnagall only gave me directions to her office. She didn't even think to give me directions back."

"Well," Malfoy said, looking behind him, then looking back, "I happen to know where the Gryffindor Common Room is and the way to get there." He grinned at Phoebe and raised his eyebrows. "I can take you there. Come on." He turned and began walking down the corridor.

"Can't you just tell me the way to get there and save us the trouble?" Phoebe called after him. He turned to give her an exasperated look, then continued. Phoebe sighed, then jogged to catch up with him. "Fine," she grumbled.

They walked along half a dozen corridors in silence. The entire time, Phoebe was wrestling with her mind. She felt as though she was being watched by someone, and frequently turned around to look behind her, convinced that something would come out of the shadows. She started when Malfoy finally spoke.

"So, what part of England do you live in?" he asked his pace staying at his 'walk in the park' stroll.

"What? Oh," Phoebe said, turning back from one of her glances behind her back, "London. Downtown London."

"It's nice there," Malfoy commented. "Where did you go to school before you came here?"

"I was actually home schooled," Phoebe answered, wondering to herself why he would care. "My mum taught me everything. And my dad taught me a few little tricks on the side."

"Such as?" Malfoy Inquired, raising his eyebrows.

"Little practical joking spells. Fred and George taught me everything they know, too. I'm the only one besides them who knows the recipe for each of the skiving snack boxes."

Malfoy laughed at the note of pride in Phoebe's voice, then asked, "What did your mother teach you? Just everything? Including the Dark Arts?"

"Well," Phoebe thought for a second, "She taught me all counter curses I would ever need. Transfiguration, herbology, potions, of course. My grandmother taught me divination. The Dark Arts I've learned about in books. I know all about them. I love to read about them. And about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I used to read about Harry, too."

"Sounds like you and Hermione Granger get along famously. Although she would never stick her nose into a book about the Dark Arts. I never would have wagered that you would either."

"It's only for educational purposes," Phoebe swore, "Especially now that the Dark Lord has returned to power." They turned a corner and Phoebe's wand light went out. She gasped loudly.

"Lumos," she said, pointing her wand out in front of her. It flickered for a second, then went out again. "Lumos!" she repeated, stabbing her wand into the darkness. The same happened. She felt a hand on her waist pulling her to the left.

"What do you know about Lord Voldemort?" Malfoy whispered into her ear.

"O-only what I've read," Phoebe breathed. She felt his breath on her ear.

"Have you ever seen him? Heard Him? Watched him?"

"No."

"Don't worry," he whispered, "This corridor has an anti-spell charm on it. No one has been able to get rid of it. It'll only be a few seconds before we get around."

"Ok." Phoebe felt Malfoy take her hand.

"Come on," he said. "I'll lead you."

Phoebe followed closely behind him, taking short, quiet breaths. She could still feel Malfoy's breath on her ear. This certainly wasn't what she had expected her first night at Hogwarts to be like. Walking along a pitch black hallway with a boy she barely knew. She let a little smirk skirt across her lips.

"Okay," Malfoy breathed as they reached the moonlight Grand Staircase. Phoebe walked ahead of him up the next four floors up to the North Tower. Portraits on the walls snored and adjusted in their pictures. An old man in a study had drool steadily dripping down his chin. At the top, Phoebe waited for Malfoy's direction.

"It's just in through here," he put his hand on her back and pointed to a large entryway.

"The tower?"

"Yes," he said, "The Tower." He took her hand again and lead her through the entrance and along a short hall to a portarait of a fat woman in a pink dress. She looked at Pheobe, then gave Malfoy a dirty look at the sight of the Slytherin patch on his robes.

"Password?" she asked gruffly.

"Plum Pudding," Phoebe replied. The portrait swung forward, and she looked around at Malfoy. "Well, thank you. For showing me how to get here and all. I would've probably ended up in the lake if I hadn't have met you."

Malfoy laughed hard, "Well, that's true. But, it's my pleasure." He looked at her for a second, then started to step forward.

"Well, good-night," Phoebe said quickly, turning away and beginning through the portrait hole, "See you around." She breathed out heavily and gave a pained look to the blackness before her. The portrait slowly swung shut behind her, blocking her from Malfoy's view.


End file.
